Revolution
by themuse001
Summary: Everything Juliette knew in her life and the world is about the change at the hands of those who seek to destroy Gotham. Bane/OC, Barsad/OC.
1. Revelation

**PRELUDE**

Bruce Wayne and Miranda Tate stood in the doorway of her bedroom, the bedroom lit only by the moonlight shining through the window. The sleeping girl's form, covered loosely with a large blanket, was barely visible to the two. The electricity to the Wayne Mansion had been shut off that night, and darkness enveloped the two figures standing quietly in the doorway of the girl's bedroom.

"She came to me because she had nowhere else to go, Miranda. I am all she has. I have to protect her," Bruce softly relayed to Miranda. Miranda nodded her head in feigned understanding. "She's my niece, and now she's my responsibility," he continued. Bruce proceeded to softly shake his head from side to side, unsure of what he was now about to ask Miranda, a woman he scarcely knew, but had an odd level of trust in already.

"If anything were to happen to me, now that Alfred is gone, she would have no one. I need someone to look after her. To protect her like I would. Will you do this for me? Will you look after her, protect her, if anything should happen to me?" Bruce whispered to Miranda, his voice stressed at the monumental weight of what he was asking of this woman setting in.

Miranda stood there in the doorway silently, digesting this information, this request. She knew exactly _**WHO** _Bryce Wayne was. The caped crusader, the dark knight, the Batman. The man who had betrayed her father, had saved the very city that she was now planning to destroy. She also knew his current adversary well, the masked man, her dear friend, her beloved. Miranda knew in her very bones that if Bruce were to confront Bane, as she thought she very well might, that Bane would crush him instantly, maybe even kill him. She suspected that Bruce was going to entice Bane to do just that very thing tonight, in his own feeble attempt to defeat the masked man and save this damned city again.

Miranda looked over at the sleeping form before her. The young sleeping woman's light golden brown hair cascaded around her, framing and almost protecting her face from those who might look upon it. She was petite. Miranda, having grown up herself in darkness should have seen more, but the young woman's damned hair and coverings alluded analyzing any further features. Miranda, cold and mechanical to her bones, felt no warmth for this sleeping child. She only saw plans. If, **WHEN**, Bruce was taken and possibly killed by Bane, the young sleeping form would be the only remaining heir to the Wayne name. She could possibly be the only beacon of hope someday to some or many of those who would struggle in the very near future to stay in the light as Gotham spiraled into hell. Miranda knew at that very moment what her answer was, what her plans for the girl would be.

"Yes, Bryce," she spoke softly, her lightly accented voice barely audible. "I will care for her. No harm will come to her." Lies, she thought to herself. 'Oh, what plans I have in store for you, young one,' Miranda thought to herself.


	2. Alone

The young woman awoke the next morning, feeling rested, but slightly uneasy. The mansion was dead quiet. She knew that Alfred had gone, and was unsure of the whereabouts of her Uncle. She stretched her body out, feeling the softness of the blankets and the bunching of her sweatpants at the bottom of her feet. She softly and slowly lifted herself out of bed. She was aware the electricity had been turned off, but her Uncle did not tell her more. She didn't inquire further into it, either. Thankfully, with the shades wide open, bright light cascaded into her room.

She walked silently to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Looking back at her was a heart-shaped face, lightly freckled from the sun, long brown hair, and hazel eyes. Her mother used to lovingly call them doe eyes. She missed her mother and father greatly. She knew they were gone, never coming back, but she so desperately craved her mother's soft touch on her hair and her father's giant laughter. The cruel streets of Gotham had taken them, much the way, as she understood, the streets had taken her Uncle's parents. The recent events stayed with her. It made her eyes look tired, and her slender body slumped over the sink.

She quickly pushed the thoughts aside, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. She then set out to search for her Uncle. She diligently searched every open room of the Mansion, a task which took the greater part of the day. She called out her Uncle's name into every empty room. Upon finally accepting that he was not there, and that she was alone, she settled herself onto the sofa couch in the living room as the day slowly turned into night. Occasionally, she would get up to pace, becoming more anxious about her current state of affairs. She was lost in her mind, beginning to panic, until she heard a soft knock at the front door.

She walked slowly to the front door, almost believing she heard the knock in her imagination. Then she heard the soft rapping again. The young girl apprehensively cracked open the door, peering out through the crack, at the face illuminating by the front foyer light. It was a woman's voice, framed by light brown hair that came to her shoulders, with dark brown eyes, and lovely perked lips. The accented voice cut through the silence.

"Young one, do you know who I am?" Miranda spoke, aware that anything off about her tone would frighten this young creature, who she knew had been panicking all day in the absence of her Uncle or Alfred.

"No," came the quiet reply, laced with wariness.

"My name is Miranda Tate, your Uncle has entrusted your well-being to me. I am sure you have noticed he is not here, nor has he been all day. I must take you back to my home, where you will be safe. Go pack some things, we will get the rest later," Miranda told the young woman. She opened the door a little wider.

"You know my Uncle?" questioned the girl. "Yes," Miranda continued, "now go quickly, Gotham is under siege, you are not safe here alone."

Emotions crossed over the young woman's face at Miranda's words, clearly digesting them, weighing them. Realizing she was indeed more likely to be safe with her versus being alone in this large mansion, made the woman's feet move towards the stairs to her room to pack.

'Good obedient little one,' Miranda thought. She will fit nicely in our world.


	3. Familiarity

The young woman sat silently in Miranda Tate's library, examining the book titles lining the walls. She had been in the older woman's home for weeks now, and have become privy to much, much of which surprised her, but did not scare her like she thought a normal reaction might be.

She heard soft footsteps approaching her, closing the space between her small body and the approaching individual. "Juliette," the older woman's voice rang out, accented and amused. Juliette turned around and whispered, "Talia," to the older woman. She had not seen Talia in over a week, aware that Talia was setting her plan in motion to bring Gotham its reckoning.

When Talia had first told her of her plans, Juliette was in shock. How could anyone wish to bring such destruction to an unknowing city on such a large scale? Even now, she was having a hard time grappling with the idea, but honestly, she adored Talia. The woman was her savior, and was becoming her protector in so many ways.

Before Talia had left her alone for a week, and after she had disclosed this information to Juliette in confidence, Juliette reflected on what had occurred next.

_Juliette pushed the door to the study open and quietly entered, her eyes trained on Miranda... no, Talia. Talia sat on a small couch, looking over an ancient book with only a lamp to light the pages next to her. Talia looked up at Juliette's approaching footsteps, almost anxious to see the results of the girl's days of pondering the information Talia had displayed to her. Of course, the one thing Talia left out was her Uncle's alter ego, unsure of whether or not Juliette even needed to know that, because Talia was unsure if Bruce was even still alive._

_Juliette masked her emotions well from a distance, but as she approached, Miranda read slight confusion drenched over it. "Come, sit, darling," motioned Talia. Juliette did as she said, sitting closer than Talia would have expected from someone who would reject the information divulged just days before._

_Juliette began slowly. "I don't fully understand why, but maybe that is not for me to know. Maybe I don't exactly 100% agree with your plans, but maybe that is just not important or relevant. I know what is important. You saved me," Juliette ended the sentence with such finality. Since she had come to Talia's home, Gotham had fallen into the hands of the masked man, Bane, Talia's dear friend and co-conspirator. Gotham was no longer safe. Murderers, rapists, thugs, and frantic people who left to their own devices and fear would do unspeakable things to any young woman or helpless person they got their hands on. Wayne Mansion had been ransacked only days after the city fell and Juliette had been relocated to Talia's home._

_"I don't want to be over-emotional with you, Talia," Juliette spoke softly. Talia turned towards the girl, to better hear her and in pure interest at what her next words would be. "But I love you, you saved me. You protected me. You are far too young to be my mother," Juliette smiled sweetly, "but I look at you as one. Is that wrong?"_

_"No, little one, that is not a wrong reaction. And I will continue to protect you. You are so special, and you do not even realize it. You are innocent incarnate. The very thing that we are seeking to save in this city. No harm will ever come to you. I will make sure of it," Talia breathed out at the girl, keeping her voice low. The setting was so intimate, she did not want to alter the mood with a tone too loud._

_"What will happen now?" asked Juliette, her big brown eyes questioning towards Talia._

Juliette moved quickly towards Talia and enveloped her in a warm embrace. Talia returned the affectionate gesture, stroking her delicate brown hair. She had missed her smell, missed her company. Although Talia had taught Juliette basic self-defense before she left, Juliette had felt so alone and scared in the mansion without Talia around. Every creak and whisper of the home was foreign and terrified her to her bones. She was constantly afraid that the rioting on the streets of Gotham would come through the windows of the home, despite the extensive security system and electric fences surrounding the property.

Juliette suddenly became aware of others' presence in the room. She slowly removed herself from Talia's embrace, although Talia never fully broke contact with the girl, instead keeping her arm around the girl's waist as she turned them both to meet the faces of those other individuals in the room. Before Juliette stood two men, one whom she recognized instantly, the masked man, Bane. His raspy breathing hissed out of his mask as he stood, almost casually in the large library, his hands gripping the tops of his vest, his eyes taking in the reunion in what could only be described as masked surprise. She felt Bane's eyes rake down her, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. It was late at night, and Juliette was wearing a long black t-shirt and short gray short, covered by a black light robe, opened to his analyzing eyes. Her hair was smoothed, but still detached from its various daytime bobby pins and decorations. Her face was clean from make up, which showed the dark circles under her eyes, only adding to her eyes' darkness. Her freckles stood out on her face, and her pink lips were slightly parted as she caught her breath looking at Bane.

Miranda reassuringly tightened her grip on the girl's waist. "Do not be afraid of him, Juliette, he will never harm you," Talia spoke softly into the girl's ear. Bane, hearing this, only grunted in response, shifting his weight only slightly. Juliette's eyes unnerved Bane, as did her physique and closeness to his beloved Talia. The two did look alike, although the one, Juliette was younger in age and in evident wisdom. It was clear from the situation that Talia was fiercely protective of the girl, standing slightly in front of her, although they seemed joined at the hip.

Juliette's eyes traveled from the masked man, to the person standing to his right. Shorter than Bane, but still much larger than an average man in height, his lithe body was evident under the bullet proof vest and fatigues, also evident that he was deadly. His hair was cut close to his head, a dark brown, and scruff shadowed his face. What struck her was his eyes. They seemed to mirror her tiredness, but were a violent, ice blue. The man looked ahead, and his eyes shot towards hers once he became aware that she was looking at him. His stare was cold, and she instantly shivered.

"That is Barsad, Bane's trusted comrade, you need not fear him either. In fact, Bane and I are leaving to continue our mission, dear one. Bane has instructed Barsad to stay behind and watch after you during that time," Talia concluded.

"How long will you be gone this time," Juliette asked, slightly turning her head towards Talia and effectively pulling herself closer to the warm woman.

"A few weeks, no longer. Barsad has been instructed to watch over you and make sure you have everything you need."

Juliette's eyes slowly traveled back to Barsad, who was still watching her, analyzing her coldly and without emotion.


	4. In the interim

**Chapter 4**

Talia's blows hit her hard, making her double over in pain. "You must be faster than that child, block my advances, and advance on me!" Talia bellowed at her in an authoritative voice. Juliette was drenched in sweat, her body trembling from the beating inflicted on it by her mentor. Talia gave her a moment to collect herself, then shouted, "AGAIN."

Juliette stood up straight and crouched down instinctively into a defensive position, anticipating that Talia would be the first to attack. The training room in Talia's mansion was a strange anomaly to the young woman, a room she had not expected to be there. But it was, and it was filled with weapons, sweat, blood, and the smell of battle.

Talia advanced quickly upon her, throwing calculated punches and kicks, all of which Juliette deflected easily. The training with Talia began weeks ago, and Juliette was a fast learner, beginning to anticipate her moves and tactics. Juliette huffed, almost a growl coming out of her pouty mouth, as she grabbed Talia's small fist and quickly unleashed her own into Talia's side. Talia took the punch, unaware of it coming, and backed up slightly in pain.

"Good," whispered the woman, who was still clearly recovering from the unexpected blow from Juliette. Both women were drenched in sweat, clad only in black training uniforms, their hair pulled from their faces, their bodies flush from the physical exertion. "Good," she repeated, and Juliette knew that the training session had come to an end. She relaxed her body, no longer preparing for an attack and walked over to her mentor, gently touching her shoulder.

"You possess such strength, little one, I was not expecting that power from you. It was...impressive," Talia stated to her, looking up in her quickly residing pain. "You are ready now for a new trainer, one who can push you further than I." Talia smiled at her, her pride no longer masked by her unexpected pain. She stood up taller and pulled the girl close, whispering in her ear, "you will be so powerful, young one, more powerful than you can imagine right now."

Juliette was unsure of whether Talia meant physically or mentally, but did know that the statement was meant for only her ears, as Juliette's eyes wandered over to the two other impressive figures in the room who had watched the whole session.

Bane was struck by the young woman's fast learning and new found abilities. Barsad was simply staring at her with a mask of emotionless expression.


	5. Shadow

_"Ok, my love, it is time for us to leave you now," Talia spoke gently to Juliette, twirling her fingers affectionately in the woman's golden brown hair. Talia motioned to herself and Bane. "We have many things to attend to, important things. We won't be gone long, only a week or two," she continued. Juliette's eyes cast down as this reality sunk in. She would miss Talia, and she hated to be alone for too long. Gotham had become a very scary place to her. Her insides curled every time she pondered the status of the city, every time she turned on the news, or overheard a conversation between Talia and Bane._

_"Barsad has been instructed to stay with you here while we are gone, to make sure no harm comes to you, young one."_

_Juliette's eyes popped up and widen slightly as she took in the man they called Barsad. He had watched her with those expressionless eyes for weeks. Normally, such lack of emotion would scare Juliette, but she was drawn to him in some inexplicable way, for some unknown reason. She examined him cautiously. He must have been human at some point in his life. He must have laughed, or smiled. He couldn't have always been this way, she reasoned. Maybe she would get to see the real Barsad while Talia and Bane were gone. Maybe he just needed some poking and proding to come out of that hard exterior. A game! Juliette thought, smirking internally. SHe hadn't felt this playful in a long time, but just the thought of playing with Barsad brought a small, barely visible smile. A barely visible smile that Barsad immediately saw. Juliette quickly wiped it off her face, scolding herself that she may have revealed her "devious" plan to her toy. No, no, she thought. He has absolutely no idea._

Talia and Bane had only been gone for a day and a night, and the house already seemed too quiet. Juliette sat in Talia's large library, glancing over the book titles until she found one that looked slightly interesting. She plopped down on the couch, not at all graciously, and folded her legs in, readying herself for a journey into whatever land this book proposed to her.

She heard a quiet shuffling in the corner of the room. "My shadow," she called out gently, in a playful tone, knowing Barsad would not respond to her. She simply wanted him to know that she knew he was there.

Barsad watched her from the corner, growing slightly frustrated with the babysitting task that Bane had ordered him to do. This spoiled child was nothing special to him, he looked over her callously. Her hair was pulled loosely back into a messy ponytail, leaving many obnoxious golden brown strands in her face, and she huffed to blown them away frequently. JUST TIE YOUR DAMN HAIR PROPERLY, he thought out of frustration. Her face was turned down to examine the innards of whatever book she had pulled, her face only examined in a profile view to him. Her nose was gently sloped, and he would attempt that she was an attractive woman. An obnoxious attractive woman. A spoiled attractive woman. Just what was Talia planning for her? Bane seemed to be in on it too, but no one revealed these plans to him. And all the while, here she sat, in clean clothes, in a secure environment, while outside in the city, their plan was working and the citizens were scrambling to stay in the light while Gotham was slowly pulled into hell. And this damned girl experiences none of it. Instead, she gets trained, pampered, and basically coddled by Talia. She gets no abuse from Bane. He just didn't understand. She was nothing special.

He stood there in the corner with his rifle in his typical fatigues, his frustrated angsty thoughts consuming him. Although he eyes were open, they were trained on the girl, then clouded by his thoughts. He never noticed the shadow which slowly moved outside the library windows.

Then all at once it happened. The window shattered, and Juliette screamed and shrieked in terror as the masked figure approached her so fast that she didn't have the chance to struggle to get as far away from the figure as possible. By the time Barsad had come to, the figure was holding a blade, a very sharp blade, directly against Juliette's neck.

The hairs on Barsad's neck stood up straight as he recognized the voice immediately as soon as it uttered its first word.

"You spoiled BRAT," spat the figure. "You sit here in luxury while we sit outside protecting you for no goddamn reason. Someone needs to teach you a lesson. You're nothing special to me, or to Bane. I don't even know why they keep you around. But I know one thing, I'm going to figure it out if it takes me all night," the man roughly pushed the front of his body crudely into Juliette's back and she whimpered. Barsad assumed the man, Ryan, one of the new mercenaries on their team, did not know Barsad had been assigned to "babysit" the spoiled brat. Ryan, he though, must think he's alone.

Barsad slowly walked out of the darkened corner, and Ryan immediately looked up at him in glee. "Barsad! Come to join the fun?" Ryan shouted across the room. Barsad slowly made his way over to the two figures, watched Juliette fighting the urges of her body to wiggle away from the man because she didn't want her throat cut. He cracked a fake smile at Ryan. "But of course, comrade, I have been waiting for this moment for a long time. Her purpose here mystifies me, maybe a little further examination wouldn't be so bad," he curled the words out in his accented voice.

Juliette, not aware of Barsad's tactic, widened her eyes in pure terror. This was her worst nightmare. She had no protector now, and the man she thought would help her, only wanted to join the man who held her still. What did they want to do to her? she thought furiously in her mind. She had done nothing to deserve this, but from what they had said, it was her mere existence that bothered them. Her 'special' treatment. What special treatment, she thought, laughing on the inside. I get beat up daily by Talia and monitored 24/7 by a crazy lunatic in a mask and another one with no soul. Great, just my luck.

She watched Barsad continue to get closer, and her apprehension continued to grow. Without warning or conscious thought, her body moved to get away from Ryan, and the blade, which had dropped to her shoulder, sliced into her like a hot knife through butter. She shrieked and whimpered as she felt the hot liquid begin to roll down her shoulder, soaking her night shirt.

Barsad was closer now, directly in front of her. He stared down at her, as Ryan held her firm, a good foot and some taller than her. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading and almost soft. His eyes, on the other hand, were murderous and gleamed down at her, the ice blue of them cutting her deeper than the knife. Barsad saw the betrayal play across her face, and the emotion he expected, fury, wasn't there. All he saw was pain and confusion.

Then he reached out and touched the knife still on her bloody shoulder. "Comrade, this is not necessary. She can be restrained with our thumb, she is so feeble," he joked with the man.

Ryan removed the knife from her neck and pushed Juliette away and onto the couch, approaching her falling form. "Do you want first or second, Barsad?"  
and that was all he said. That was all he would ever utter again in his life.

Barsad, then standing behind Ryan, watching him approach the fallen girl, quickly placed his hands on both sides of Ryan's head and quickly snapped his neck, the now deceased intruder laying in a crumble on the floor, his neck bent awkwardly.

Juliette remained on the couch, haphazardly thrown there by Ryan, now dead at her feet. Her eyes, bewildered, shot up to look at Barsad, who was now standing over the dead body, his own body appearing to be breathing heavy as he looked down at his deceased comrade. He violently spit on the body. Barsad's eyes looked up and locked with Juliette's. He examined her current situation. She was struggling to sit up from her place on the couch, the blood on her shoulder from the cut continuing to slowly drizzle down into the hem of her shirt. Her eyes were the widest he had ever seen them, staring directly at him. He never noticed how much green was in her hazel eyes before. Her mouth was slightly parted in sheer surprise at how every thing had gone down, surely confused at his change in action.

In a rushed moment, Juliette jumped off the couch and over the dead man and into Barsad's surprised arms. She pushed her small head into his chest, whimpering and softly crying, her body shuddering against his. Her messy hair was next to his face, and his arms instinctively went to hold her small frame against him as she continued to cry into his shirt, the wetness of her tears soaking through and onto his skin. He turned his head slightly and involuntarily smelled her hair. It smelled of vanilla and some other woodsy-scent. He took a deep breath in, inhaling the scent, finding it curled inside him in such a pleasant way. She was so small, he hadn't realized this fact until he had been forced to hold her as she broke down.

Without a thought, his head turned into her hair and close to her ear, he whispered, "ssshh, moja lepota, it's ok. No one will harm you." She turned her small face towards his, until it was firmly lodged into the crook of his neck and tried to steady her breathing. Her hot breath on his neck was making his body act strange towards her, forcing emotion out of him, and an odd protective and possessive feeling overtook him.

Without a word, he grabbed her by her waist on both sides and hoisted her legs up around his waist, her arms moving from his sides to curl around his neck, her face never leaving that spot on his neck. Slowly, he walked over the dead man and exited the library, carrying Juliette towards her room, all the while cooing and sshing her slowly retreating whimperings.

When he reached her room, he gently kicked the door open and walked over to her bed, slowly releasing her to lower her onto it. She grasped frantically at him as she felt her body leaving his, her insistent hands grabbing any clothing on him she could to stop the disconnect. He hushed her and pulled her hands from him.

"Rest, little one, I must clean up the mess. I will be back, its ok. You're safe," he said gently to the trembling form. Juliette was on her knees in the bed, her eyes wild with fear, wanting only for Barsad to stay near her. "Please," she whimpered, "don't leave me."

Her words cut through him, and he stepped back slightly, his eyes taking in the sight of her begging him to stay. Then his mind clicked, all of the pieces finally fitting together, all the questions he had asked about why she was here finally answered. _Innocent, he thought. She's so innocent, like an untouched child's soul. She knows no harm, and she has no evil in her. That's why she's here, as Barsad thought back to Bane and Talia's origins. Talia wants to protect her innocence, wants to mold her into herself._

"I will be right back, moja lepota, 5 minutes," he spoke gently to the young woman, oddly and affectionately touching her hair as he had seen Talia do before. The gesture was foreign to him, something he hadn't done in such a long time to a woman. But it seemed to work. Juliette sighed at his soothing touch, and her stance slowly relaxed, as she nodded her head in understanding and acceptance.

Barsad removed his hand, took one last glance at her, and left the room to clean up the vile man laying dead in the library.


	6. Absence

Juliette stayed still in her room, awaiting Basard's return, which she angrily thought took forever. She jumped up from her bed, her adrenaline finally kicking in, thinking the night's happenings over and over again in her head. She began to pace, muttering her anger at waiting for that stupid man.

She thought over the way his face looked when she thought he would take advantage of her with that other foul man. She was a virgin, and the thought scared her to death. Then she thought the way his face looked when he stood over the dead man's body, the look of a mercenary. It chilled her to her bones then, and she shivered involuntarily as she thought over that moment. Then she remembered the soft way Basard had held her after, had comforted her. Her insides began to feel funny and her pacing slowed, her anger ebbed. She reflected on his face at that moment, her moment of utter fear and panic. He seemed so calm, so resolute, so protective. His blue eyes held a level of possessiveness she hadn't picked up on before. Her insides fluttered slightly. _What was that feeling_, she thought. She continued to ponder the mysterious man, her shadow. _He was attractive, very attractive_, when she thought about it. His skin was a bronzy color, olive in its complexion and stretched over his face. Had he been any thinner, he might have been called gaunt, but he wasn't. She knew from the short amount of contact they had, that he was all muscle. _ WHERE IS THIS DAMNED MAN_, she angrily cursed in her head, her pacing picking back up in speed. _That infuriating, stoic, pain in the ass, gorgeous man_! _Gorgeous? Where had that thought come from_? Had she really just thought that about him? Her insides fluttered more, furiously this time. The action made her slightly dizzy, her eyes becoming slightly hazy. Her movements became lazy, more languid, the fluttering intensifying every time she thought of him.

Basard watched her pacing and internal battle quietly from the dark corner of her room. He had arrived while she had paced furiously, cleaning up the mess in the library with some help. He had come back to check up on her. He knew that she was unaware of his presence as she seemed to harden, then soften, then harden her gaze and physicque. Now though, her pace had slowed, and something appeared different on her face. Suddenly, she turned to acknowledge his presence. Her hazel eyes were glossed over, appearing almost golden to him. A flush had crept over her face, but when she locked eyes on him, the fire returned.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed and ran over to him, landing a solid open-handed slap across his face. "How dare you leave me alone for that long, how dare you make me think you wanted to hurt me!" he felt the slight sting of her hit, but brushed it off. It was like a kitten pawing at his face. Bane did not employ gentle men who were easily hurt by such a hit. He let her continue her tirade of anger, unsure what exactly was fueling it. Her actions were erratic and it was beginning to frustrate him. She raised her hand again, to hit him again, and he caught her tiny paw this time, pulling her body almost into his with strong physical force that took her breath away.

The proximity made it crystal clear to him what she was frustrated about. _She had.. missed him? Maybe._ She looked up at him, puzzled at the sudden closeness, and the fire ebbed out of her eyes, replaced by glossiness and haze, making them golden again. _Beautiful_, he thought. _STOP_, he thought again immediately. He hadn't released her hand yet. The fluttering in Juliette's lower body began again, humming pleasantly, wanting this nearness. She tried to shake her head to clear her mind, but nothing was working. She was being overcome by him.

She was aware he hadn't let go of her hand, aware that the hold wasn't hurting her, simply holding her hand by the wrist to prevent a hit. She aware suddenly of **HIM**. He was much taller than her and smelled like gun powder and musk. It was a heady scent that made her brain even foggier. She reached up with her free hand, unaware of her own actions, the fluttering becoming overwhelming, and growing lower in between her legs. She gently made contact with the side of his face with her fingertips. If Basard was surprised, it only showed in his eyes for a millisecond. He was curious, _what was she doing_..

Her fingertips traced over the side of his face, feeling his stubble, and ended over his lips, touching them ever so softly. She felt heat roll over her body at that contact, and the heat only intensified when she took her eyes from his lips to his eyes. He was staring down at her, still gripping her free hand. His eyes were cloudly blue now, slightly hooded, but held almost a glare. _ To hell with him_, she thought. _I am doing this_, she was determined. She pulled her body closer to his, feeling his slight hesitance at that small disappearance of distance between them. She stood up on her tippy toes, her face dangerously close to the mercenary's. Then, she did what her body begged her to do, had been begging her to do since she first looked at him.

Her lips softly touched his, surprised at their warmth. Basard's eyes gleamed even more. She pressed her lips harder against his, feeling no response from him at the first touch.

Then all at once, Basard took his grasp on her hand, turned and threw her against the closest wall in her bedroom, roughly, his body following. His body pressed against hers so tightly that it took Juliette's breath away and she felt the heat roll warmer in between her legs. His face was level with her, no longer touching, but his lips were mere millimeters from her, her body lifted slightly off the floor.

Then he spoke, low and dangerously. "I know what you want, little one. I don't know why, but I know what you want. This, right?" His lips had moved from hers and now spoke into her ear, his breath hot on her face, making her even wetter. His hand crept up her leg and under her black night shirt, skimming the exposed skin. He played gently with the skin, teasing her. She mewled gently in response, the sound creeping up Basard's spine and lessening his already thin-hold on his control. "Is this what you want from me?" His fingers felt the edge of her panties and then with slight pressure, rolled to the wetness soaking the fabric. At this touch, she mewled louder, moving in his grip, pushing herself against his fingers.

"You are a virgin, no? How do you know what you want, little one? How do you know you want this?" He pressed his already present erection hard against her stomach, her mewls having made Basard unable to control its growth. His assaults on her body were overcoming her senses. She was breathing him in, feeling only his touch on her body, curling into his face as he spoke in her ear softly.

"Please," was all she could muster.

"Bane does not employ men who are soft or gentle, little one. I will NOT be gentle with you," he almost sneered in her ear, his teeth nipping at her ear lobe, eliciting more movement from her contained body and more soft noises from her pink lips. She nodded her head furiously, her body fully in control now. She could hear the smallest, faintest voice telling her _how dangerous this was, how dangerous he was, to get out and stop this NOW_. But she couldn't obey. She could only obey her body and what it wanted. And it wanted whatever Basard was doing to never stop.

His fingers were still rolling over the soaked fabric of her lacy panties, still pressing her captive hand against the wall, still pressed into her. She reached her free hand up to his hair, and without thought, pulled harshly at it.

He growled in her ear, sending shocks down her spine. "**PLEASE**," she said more urgently. She had waited so long for this, she didn't want to wait anymore, not one more second.

The second Juliette yanked his hair, Basard's control snapped in half. He bit her ear lobe harshly and breathed heavily, eliciting a cry of pleasure and pain from her. He let go of her hand pressed against the wall, moved away from her slightly, and ripped her panties down and threw them from her body. Her fingers, stumbling in her ignorance, went directly to his belt, pulling, pushing, trying to undo the pants that separated them now. He hastily pushed her hands away, and undid the belt and pants, pulling himself out and showing Juliette just want she had been asking for. He saw her eyes grow wide like a doe, the golden and green hues brightening and glossing over more. He stroked himself once, then grabbed her waist and hoisted her up and pressed her harder into the wall, stepping between her legs. There was no more time for foreplay, Basard had one mission.

He pulled her night shirt up just enough and placed himself between her. His hands were still on her waist, her back straight on the wall, her small weight supported by Basard's arms and now legs. Then he gripped her waist tighter, and pulled down with all of his strength, pulling her down ferociously on his length.

Her screams echoed in the mansion. Basard gritted his teeth to the point where he thought they would split. She was so tight, so warm. She gripped every inch of him, and he felt her break inside as he entered her. _She wanted this_, he reminded himself. He pressed his forehead against hers, and cast his eyes down, seeing tears leaking from her eyes. He was not gentle by any means, but he gave her a moment to adjust to his length and girth.

He could feel her doing that. Then she moved gently on him, almost encouraging him. His forehead still pressed against hers, he repeated his earlier warning. "**I will not be gentle with you**."

His grip on her waist tightened and he began to move in and out of her, pressing her body against the wall harder every time he entered her. Her wetness slid down his legs, letting him know that at least her body had accepted him. He continued at his medium pace, thrusting into her harder each time, and she finally began to just let it happen, her body thrusting back each time he entered her. The first time he felt her thrust back into him, bringing him even more inside her, he groaned against her forehead, and she growled back, the growl crawling down his inside so deliciously. It was a sound he knew that he would love to hear again and again. He entered her harder, each meeting the others' thrust. Juliette felt something hot growing inside her, growing hotter each time he threw himself into her. The force was almost too much, a delicate balance between pleasure and pain, but pleasure was slowly winning out.

Basard didn't know how much longer he could hold on. Her tightness felt like it milked him every time he left her and pushed back in. Her movements were meeting his and he knew, in amazement, that although this was her first time, she might possibly climax. She was using her hands to guide his hips to thrust up and into her, and he knew this small gesture meant she had a spot, and he was hitting it. He allowed her hands to remain, but increased his speed and thrusts to almost a punishing level, her cries indicating she was feeling the pain of it, but her body indicating that it was responding gloriously to it. Then he felt it.

She began to tighten even more around him with each upward thrust. _This was it_. He felt her explode around him, her body gripped his dick so hard that he couldn't pull out and forcing him to spill everything into her. He growled at her as he did, feeling his whole body tense up, the grip on her waist surely to leave a bruise.

The two remained against the wall, Basard still supporting her weight, while they came down from their highs.

Finally, he let one hand off her waist and came up to stroke her sweaty face, flushed with the aftermath of her very first orgasm. He looked deep into her hazel eyes and found only haze and pleasure.

He finally separated from her, gently placing her down, anticipating her shaky legs and held her up as she almost collapsed on the floor. He quickly scooped her up and laid in her down in her bed. Then he zipped himself up, glancing over at her ravished body. She lay completely still on her back, her legs curled up, eyes closed, still breathing heavily. Her inner legs were lightly spattered with her virginity and him. _MINE_, he thought possessively, his next thought was of confusion and reprimand for even uttering those words in his mind. His eyes drifted back up her body to rest on her face, which was now staring at him.

"Where are you going?" she breathed softly, knowing he wouldn't stay, but not wanting him to go too far.

"Just down the hall, little one. I have to keep watch. Come get me if you need anything." With that, he left her, still breathing heavily, half clothed in her bed.


	7. Morning Coffee

Juliette reflected on the past two days as she stood in Talia's kitchen, drinking a hot cup of coffee, staring out into the backyard, which held a low level of fog as dawn began to break the day. She had trouble sleeping the past two nights, dreaming of her coupling with Basard, waking up each time drenched in sweat and wet and aching. Basard entered the kitchen while she was deep in thought, but she noticed his presence immediately without turning around to look upon him. It seemed every time he entered a room she was in, electricity shot through the confines of the walls and into her body. She wanted more, she just knew that he didn't. She had pondered for days and could only come to the conclusion that he thought it was a mistake. Something that happened in the heat of the moment. He didn't want her, and it wouldn't happen again.

Not much had changed in his demeanor towards her, except maybe she was given a few more smiles and a touch of playfulness here and there. She attributed these minute changes to the fact that Basard got laid, not that it was with her. _It could have been anybody_, she thought viciously.

She continued to stare out the window, refusing to acknowledge his presence as he stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island from her, his eyes trained and fixated on her. She was wearing a silk robe over her night clothes, no doubt because she had just woken up. Her golden brown hair was mused up from sleep and messier than usual.

Juliette continued to look into the backyard, replaying the events of the last two days in her head.

_She had awoken the next morning in soreness. She could barely move her legs. She grimaced in pain, and thought back to the night before with Basard, immediately feeling the fluttering building again. She quickly removed the thought from her mind. She glanced over to her nightstand to turn on the light, and saw a variety of pills laid out for her with a tall glass of water. She recognized the blue pills as Aleve, but not the small white one. She took them all out of obedience, knowing that no one would harm her with a pill. If her end came, it would be with a bullet between the eyes, or at the hands of Bane squishing her neck until it cracked. She shuddered at the night as she drank down the water and the pills._

_She slowly removed herself from bed, noting the tremendous tenderness she felt in her legs, arms, and waist. She moved quietly and softly to the bathroom and flicked on the light. She looked HORRIBLE. Her hair was a complete mess, and the darkness under her eyes told her she hadn't slept well. A nice warm shower might make her feel better. She stripped off the black night dress she wore and glanced down in surprise. On both side sof her waist, she had bruises in the faint shape of handprints._

_She stepped into the shower, it already warmed and slowly bathed herself. When she was done, she changed as quickly as her body would allow her into tight black yoga pants reaching halfway down her calves and a heather gray hoodie. She tied her wet hair up in a messy bun and smudged some make up on to make it appear as those she sleep with not a care in the world._

_She walked through the halls, appearing aimless, but actually secretly searching for Basard. She found him sitting in the dining room next to the kitchen, reading the Gotham News, which was still being printed despite the revolution going on. She stood in the doorway, watching him smirk occasionally. She didn't know why he didn't acknowledge her presence, she knew that he knew she was there. He wasn't dense. She loudly huffed and moved quickly to sit across from him at the table, fully prepared to talk about the prior night._

_Basard looked up from his paper, a bemused smile on his face. She revealed at the way his smile was almost infectious. It crinkled his face in all the right places and almost brightened his blue eyes. "Coffee?" he asked softly in his accented voice. "No," she stubbornly refused, despite the intoxicating smell of the delicious dark blend. She refused to smile him, refused to let him infect her with his beauty. "Fine then, be stubborn," he said, the bemused look never leaving his face as he continued to read his paper. __**DAMN HIM, HE KNEW**__._

_Frustrated, she got up and got herself a cup of coffee, all the while convincing herself that he had NOT won this game. __**Was it is a game? Is this what sex does to you, confuses you to the point where you can't think straight?**__**DAMN HIM.**_

_She returned to the table and laying in front of her chair was part of the paper Basard had been reading. He still sat across from her reading, drinking his coffee. She sighed softly, sat down, shut her mouth, and read the paper with him, drinking coffee._

_Throughout the day, she would periodically see him, but never really spoke to him, especially about the prior night._

_And at the end of the night, another white pill and a glass of water appeared on her night stand._

After that first day, every morning, she would wake up to vitamins and a white pill on her nightstand. After that first day, the second day went exactly the same way. Barely speaking, occasionally seeing each other. They never spoke about that night, and it appeared that they never would in the future.

The third day, she woke earlier than usual, her dreams rousing her. She skipped the morning routine of making herself appropriate and simply walked to the kitchen, made coffee and stood stoic, watching the backyard.

Basard watched her carefully, up and down. He had left that night, two nights ago, to get her the morning after pill, cursing himself for being so careless. And, just in case, for reasons he couldn't understand, picked up several months worth of birth control pills for her. _ Just in case someone hurt her, or she found someone. He didn't really know why. But she was in her damn mid-twenties, she should be on birth control no matter what_, he thought furiously has he grabbed the boxes in the abandoned drug store.

His thoughts travelled back to her on this third morning. She wasn't dressed for the day like she usually was, and was awake unusually early for her. She had almost beat Basard's am wake up call. He had heard her bustling around in the kitchen and smelled the coffee and decided to see what she was up to. Finally, she turned around to face him. "Coffee?" she said softly.

He had learned the past few days to hold himself quietly in her presence as she often danced around him in a way that would take a normal man's breath away. This morning was no exception. Despite not dressing herself in her day's outfit, she was breath-taking. Her hair was billowing around her in curls, the rising sun highlighting the golden streaks in it. Her skin was flawless, freckled, and the darkness under her eyes, indicating her sleepless night, only made her hazel eyes brighter and more green. Her tan night shirt clung to her in all the right places and hung just above her knees and the black robe was loosely tied around her body, hanging slightly off one of her shoulders.

He nodded, accepting her offer of coffee. As she poured his coffee and left it black, the way he liked it, he thought about how much he had wanted her again and again and again since that first night. Her delicate hand reached over to offer him the coffee, and as he took it, he carelessly let his hand briefly touch hers. This was the first time their bodies had any type of contact since that night, and if the contact surprised her, she didn't show it. Basard, on the other hand, felt a sharp shock run up his arm.

He knew he couldn't feel like this towards her. He didn't know yet where her place was in this whole scheme, or who she "belonged" to. She could only BELONG to one person, if she belonged to him at all. And if she did belong to Bane, he could never touch her again, nor could he ever speak of what they did. So he kept his mouth shut. But she was intoxicating to him. Every day since that time, he felt more and more protective and possessive of her. More drawn to her, which made him try to put as much distance as possible between them. Her actions the next morning had made him smile, had been so endearing to him. But this could not progress, this could not go farther. It would not, he thought, even though his brain took him through the actions of that night again and again, on a vicious replay of what he couldn't do to her.

They stood together in silence, Basard damning himself silently, as she turned back around to face the backyard and continued to drink her coffee. After a few minutes, she spoke. "Wanna watch a movie with me today?"


	8. Realization

Frustrated by the lack of cable and movie choices, Juliette decided to simply read in the library. In three days, it looked as though nothing had ever been broken in it, a window or a man's neck. Basard sat casually on the couch across the room, reading his own book, occasionally looking up to glance at her, making sure she was alright. All morning, she had a grimace on her face and the grimace continued as she read the book currently in her hand.

Her mind was running a mile a minute. She still hadn't changed out of her night clothes, and the fluttering she felt that morning in the kitchen had not subsided, but had only increased since Basard seemed to be insistent on not leaving her alone that day. Her eyes weren't reading the words on the pages of her book, but she continued to turn the pages to appear as though she were reading. She turned the page roughly, almost knocking the book from her tight grasp.

"Frustrated with the plot, little one?" mused Basard lightly, attempting to erase the girl's grimace. Juliette looked up at him with a fire in her eyes. **SHE HAD HAD ENOUGH**. She threw the book at him, striking his legs with it. "What was that for?" he continued in good humor.

"Why are you so bright and sunny this morning?" she retorted angrily, standing up quickly from her arm chair.

"It is a beautiful day, little one. You should look around and smile too."

"I will NOT SMILE. I have been walking on eggshells for three fucking days with you, and now you won't leave me alone!" she practically screamed at him.

His eyes darkened slightly. "Is it your wish for me to leave the room?" _This was certainly a change_, he thought. She had appeared so calm, but apparently she was furious and he didn't know why.

"You haven't spoken more than 10 words to me in three days, and now you sit here taunting me?!" she bellowed at him.

"What is your problem, little one?" he asked seriously, his anger beginning to brew at her rudeness towards him. He was not a man taken to a quick temper, but he found himself being riled up faster than normal with her and her behavior.

"**YOU**!" she shrieked. "**YOU** are my problem." She stopped dead in front of him, staring down upon his sitting form. "We haven't spoken at **ALL** about what happened, not once. You walk around here like nothing happened. You treat me like nothing happened. Well, I am a goddamn person, with feelings. And you have hurt my feelings by ignoring me on this!"

Basard was angry now. "And what would you have me do, Juliette?" he sneered her name. "Discuss every little detail of our fuck over morning coffee? Tell you how special it was? It was nothing, it can never be **ANYTHING**. Do you understand me, or must I find another way to make that clear to you?" he spoke with a dangerous edge in his voice.

Her rantings were making it harder for him. Of course he wanted to talk about it. Or rather, just do it again. But he couldn't. He didn't know how much trouble he would be in if Talia and Bane ever found about the first time. And her pacing in her night clothes, the black robe slipping off slowly, her hair wild and beautiful and those ferocious eyes, daring him to do something, were threatening the last bit of self-control he had left. He had risen to stand at this point, getting in her face with his words, daring her to speak to him again in that tone.

He expected his words to destroy her, he expected tears and for her to storm off. But she held still, looking down at her feet, while he towered over her, closer than he would have liked.

Then she spoke. "It's too late, Basard," she said softly. "It's too late," she repeated, still looking down at her feet as she talked to him. "I know you feel what I feel. You feel the room change when we're both in it. You feel that sensation when you touch me. You want this, you want this as much as I want this. I wake up every night wanting it, wanting you. And I don't know why you don't want me too. Did I do something wrong?" Her voice was soft throughout her monologue, but her words cut through Basard like a knife.

His brain got hazy, and he realized a moment too late that his self-control was gone. He grabbed her by the shoulders roughly, her head popped up in surprise to look at his face. His face was a puzzle coming together for her.

He spoke roughly to her, slightly shaking her by the shoulders as he spoke, "I do want you. But I cannot have you, you are not mine to take. You need to stop this, stop this now, before you get me or both of us killed."

Her eyes were wide as she digested the information, and realized the deeper meaning of his words. "If I belong to someone," she spoke softly, despite his roughness with her, "then I belong to you."

Basard's logical mind shut down and he shoved her by her shoulders into him as he took her lips roughly, slamming his tongue in her mouth. She groaned in sheer pleasure at the action, letting him have full control over her and her body. She had been waiting for what felt like years for this. His tongue and lips moved against her, not exploring, _possessing_. She was **HIS**. He would have her, yes, he would have her, again and again and again.

His hands moved to her waist, where the bruises had left her body, and pulled her into him, letting her feel his long erection. "You should not have said that, little one. I am not a man to share, and we are playing a **VERY** dangerous game, with very dangerous people," he growled viciously in her ear. "When they find out that I have taken your innocence, they will not be happy. And you have put me in a position now where I cannot stop but continue to take you. And I will."

He ripped her robe off and sat back down on the couch, unbuckling and unbuttoning his pants, while he did so. She stood and watched him, her lips full and pink from the bruising kisses he had given her, his words sinking in. _He wanted her_. He had ripped her robe off quickly and she knew that he wanted her immediately. Although inexperienced personally, she had seen enough movies to know how to take control of this, how to TRY to make him hers instead of the other way around.

She stood before him in her tan night shirt, while he sat on the couch stroking himself, beckoning her to immediately come to him. She slowly, and with purpose, pulled her night shirt off her body and threw it casually to the side of her, standing clad before him in her lacy tan panties. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she shimmed out of her panties, revealing a clean-shaven body. She tossed her panties to the side with her toe. Basard began to get impatient, sitting straight up and reaching out to grasp her waist, ripping her towards him.

She allowed him to pull her close to him, straddling his thighs and erection, but not lowering herself yet. Basard tried to force her down with minimal force, thinking she would allow him to do so. When she didn't move, he tried again, but Juliette's hand shot up into his hair and gently stroked him. He stopped his movements and stilled, his eyes beginning to turn a light blue and hooded. She continued to stroke his hair, this time with both of her hands, allowing herself to sit on his lap just belong his erection. His eyes closed slightly as she continued to stroke his locks, and she smiled, knowing how much he enjoyed the feeling. Her hands drifted down to his face, then his neck, and then to the neck of his shirt, which she softly tugged at, hoping he would take the hint. His eyes opened slightly, and a small smile appeared on his face.

"You want this gone?" he motioned with his eyes to his shirt. She nodded softly, hoping that her softer approach to asking for what she wanted would make him do it. With one swift motion, he removed his shirt. Her eyes took in his chest for the first time. It took her breath away, but what about Basard didn't? He was lean, just like she thought. Light hair covered the top of his chest, and he had a tight stomach. He looked exactly like what he was - a trained killer. But here he was, bending ever so slightly to her will, as she rubbed her hands over his chest and stomach. He was not a mercenary right now. He was her lover right now.

She leaned forward, and brought her lips to his ear. "Do you like this?" she whispered into his ear. He grunted in response. She gently bit his ear lobe and licked it, eliciting a growl from him. She moved her mouth lower, to his neck and continued nipping and licking. He never stopped her, but slightly adjusted himself and leaned further back into the couch. She continued to make her way down his chest, moving from her sitting position to slightly stoop to reach lower with her lips, until she was on her knees in between his legs, staring up at him.

His eyes were dark blue, hooded, and filled with desire. His hands had moved into her hair, stroking her while she had nipped and kissed and licked his body. All of the earlier aggression seemed to have left him, and replaced with lazy movements and patience with her exploration of him.

Finally, she lowered her eyes to his erection. She licked her lips in anticipation. Never in a million years did she think she would be doing this, and her brazen ways were beginning to be over taken by anxiety. _Would she do it right_? She needed to try. It looked so appetizing. Pink, erect, straight, beautiful. Basard's hand continued to softly stroke her hair, allowing her time to ready herself. She lifted an unsteady hand to hold it, and trying her best to remember what her friends in college had told her, started at the top and stroked down and then up again. Basard's hand had stopped stroking and just held her hair. She continued the motion and the grip in her hair grew slightly stronger. She then focused her grip at his head only and stroked there, and Basard moved his hand to her the side of her neck, gently massaging her. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes at the sensation of her tiny hand on him, living in how delicious this moment felt.

He was quickly brought out of his reverie when he felt a warm tongue flick out over his head. He groaned, and his hips involuntarily bucked at the action. Then without warning, she took as much as she could of him in her mouth and licked from inside her mouth, her hand on the remaining part of his erection that she simply couldn't take in. He groaned louder than he ever had before and his head shot up, his eyes directly trained on her bobbing head as she licked him and stroked him. Words couldn't describe the pleasure.

She continued doing this, knowing his groans meant she was doing it right. She felt him get bigger in her mouth, which she didn't think was possible. Then, all at once, Basard grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her off him.

He looked at her beneath hooded eyes, his breathing labored. She knew what he wanted. She slowly stood up and placed her knees on either side of his legs, straddling his dick. He gripped her hips roughly, and she knew that her play time was over. Basard was in control now, and she loved it. He gripped her even harder, making her whimper slightly. A small smile spread on his face. "Did you have fun, little one? Are you ready now?" he asked her softly. She nodded her head, her wetness dripping onto his pants in anticipation. He carefully lowered her hips until he was at her entrance, then asked her again, "Is this what you want?" She nodded. "Say it," he demanded. "I want you," she whispered.

At that, he pulled down on her hips and filled her up to the hilt in one motion. Juliette's cried out, her head thrown back, as Basard didn't wait for her to adjust to him. He pummeled into her as hard as he could, the grip on her hips tightening to a painful degree. But Juliette never stopped him. She lived in the moment, allowing him to force her body to accept him. The harder he pulled her down onto him, the more she cried out. He pulled her down on him at an angle roughly, and pleasure pulsed throughout her body to the point where her head shot back up and she moved her hands on his chest to stop him. He knew what he had done, she realized, when she looked at him. "Please," she mewled, "please."

"Please, what?" he replied, his voice slightly shaking with the last bit of control he had left before he ripped her apart with his thrusts.

"Right there, the way you did it, do it again, please. Make me come," she whispered. She moved closer to his ear, and whispered again, "please."

He grunted, and began to slowly lift her hips up and down at that angle on top of him, and each time he entered her and hit that spot, she cried out in pleasure. Basard was clenching his teeth, trying his best to hold the pace slow to torture her, to build her up. He was surprised that he cared at all that he wanted her to come, but he did. He wanted to obey her request. She was responding so well to what he was doing, so he picked up speed. She straightened her back out and threw her head back and cried out. Everytime he moved into her at that angle, the heat grew and grew until she burned from the inside. "PLEASE!" she screamed. Basard stopped suddenly, grabbed the back of her head and forced her to look at him. "You'll look at me when I make you come," and he released her head and began the slow pace again, building more and more, until he knew she wanted it so bad, she was practically begging him with her eyes. His thrusts became violent, and his grip became painful, but all of this moved her towards her orgasm.

He felt her start to tighten around him and forced her down on him more violently, faster. When she exploded around him, he clenched his jaw so tight that he felt it pop, and he released himself into her. She milked him, everything out of him, and she collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily. Her hips were burning from where he had gripped her and because of how she was spread out on him.

They stayed that way for a few minutes. Basard head was leaning back on the couch, his eyes closed, his breathing becoming more normal. He had waited days for this, and thought it would never happen again. Now, though, he knew it would never stop. He felt her soft lips on his neck, and his hand instinctively went into her hair, massaging her head. It would never stop. This young girl was his now. He would pay for this, he knew, but the choice had already been made.


	9. What have you done?

Juliette's eyes were transfixed on the television screen, not only because the cable had been fixed, but because she was staring at Bane as he spoke at Gotham's football game. He had blown the field half-way to hell and was now informing the viewers that there was a nuclear bomb in the arena. A nuclear bomb that would ultimately go off no matter what since Bane had just killed the only man capable of making it stable again.

Terror shot through her body as she watched Bane do these unspeakable things. She was scared of him before, but this, this **TERRIFIED** her. The microphone dropped on the ground, and Juliette saw him retreat into a hole. _Was he coming back here?_ Her tremors were visible to Basard, who could not comfort her when it came to Bane. He didn't have any control over Bane and would not even pretend that he did.

The screen went blank. Juliette quietly stood up and turned off the television. She turned slowly to look at Basard, as he stood there behind the couch. Juliette's expression was one he could not read, which was uncommon in the week he had been with her. He had been intimate with her several times, each time, despite his initial warning, more gentle than the last. They were inseparable since their time in the library. Where Basard went, she went. Where Juliette went, Basard went. They didn't always talk, but they were always near each other.

Juliette broke her stare with Basard and left the room quietly, returning to her room and locking the door so he wouldn't follow her. _Was this it?_ _Gotham would be blown to bits, Juliette included in with it? _ She felt so selfish in that moment, but knew millions of others were thinking the same thing. _Is this what Talia had planned all along? Is this what Bane was for?_ She didn't feel betrayed, but she felt scared. _What was her place in all of this?_ Talia had gone to great lengths to train her, educate her, keep her safe. _Did she do all of this to just have her be blown away with everyone else?_

Juliette paced the room, her thoughts becoming more and more frantic. She heard knocking on the door, but did not answer it, despite its increasing frequency. She continued to pace, mutter to herself, and fall into an anxiety attack. Suddenly, the door was thrown open and Basard walked in.

"You answer when I knock."

"I will do what I want, when I want," she retorted. He did not reply. Something in him acknowledged that what she said maybe true, at least when it came to him. It amazed him at how much their relationship had changed. Somehow, she had become the dominant personality in it, and Basard was her protector, her sword.

"At least take these," he replied, as he extended two Xanax towards her with a glass of water. She took the water and pills without hesitation or question. That aspect of their relationship would never change, and Basard would always be the dominant one in that way. She never questioned him, took him at his word, and followed his instructions, generally. If she ever got sassy, a simple look would usually silence her.

She continued to pace her room for 15 more minutes at a frenzied pace, then suddenly the pills took effect. Her legs began to feel like jelly, and her mind was losing control of the thoughts she was thinking. Then she felt herself stumble, falling directly into her protector's arms, who had been waiting for her. He gently guided her to her bed, pulled the covers back and sat her down in the bed. "Get under the covers," he demanded softly. She looked up at him with medicated eyes, big, golden and green and brown, her lips pouty and pink as ever, and she obeyed, sliding her body under the sheets. She pulled the covers up and looked at him again.

"What is going to happen, am I going to die?" she asked so quietly, that he barely heard her. He turned back around to look at her. She was scared, barely holding onto consciousness and needed to be reassured. "No, little one, I would never let that happen," he replied, knowing he had very little control in this whole scheme, but knowing that he would make sure that he would keep that promise whatever it took or meant. He would not let her die.

"Please, don't leave yet. Stay until I'm asleep."

Basard quietly obliged her, and pulled her vanity chair up to her bedside and watched over her. Content that Basard would stay and keep her safe, she drifted off into dreamless sleep.

Her eyes slipped open barely, hearing a foreign noise in her room. She shot up in bed when she realized Basard was no longer sitting in the chair by her bed. Bane. His head was down, fingering her blanket. "So soft," he melodically and mechanically stated. "No wonder you sleep so peacefully." He looked up at her, her eyes glued to his mask. Terror began to make its way from her toes up her body, her shaking beginning again. Her eyes flicked towards a movement in the corner and saw Basard standing at attention.

"Have you enjoyed your time here, Juliette?" Bane continued. At this point, Juliette's entire body was shaking, and she was using every available muscle to control it so she wouldn't show unabashed fear in front of Bane. _He wont hurt you_, Talia's words drifted in her mind. TALIA.

"Where is Talia?" she asked him frantically, unable to keep the terror out of her voice.

Bane chuckled at her shaky voice, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You fear me. Good. Talia is busy doing her part in Gotham's downfall. You will see her again, but not for a few more weeks."

Juliette felt slightly less ill at ease after Bane's response. She took a minute to analyze him. _Jesus, he was big_. He looked like he was about to break her small vanity chair. His arms were the size of her body width and his legs enormous. It was clear that everything on him was muscle. It was also clear that he was deadly, and he was only nice to her because Talia probably scolded him into it. _Thank you Talia, wherever you are_.

Juliette was still slightly shaking as she realized that Bane was taking her in as well. She shoke so violently that a piece of golden brown hair fell in her face.

Bane lifted his hand up to brush it out of her face and she steadied herself against his touch. She also heard movement in the corner, and as she brought her eyes up, she saw Basard had quickly moved closer to them. His face was tense, clearly not liking the fact that Bane was touching her.

Bane took the piece of Juliette's hair and twindled it in his thumb. "So soft," he muttered, "I wonder, does it break easy?" He tightened his grasp on the piece and pulled hard, pulling Juliette's head down and eliciting a cry from her. Basard jumped and moved closer.

"AHHHHHHH," Bane continued to mutter as he softened his grasp on her hair and gently tucked it behind her ear, caressing her face as his hand returned to his leg. "What has happened here in my absence?" His question, although seemingly asked of Basard, was quite clearly directed at Juliette. "What have you done, little girl? I barely touch you, and my loyal second in command jumps as if you were burned, intending to stop the harm. Which he knows would mean certain death for him. What have you done, indeed."

Bane stared hard at her, then twisted his head to look at Basard. "In the library, now."

Bane sat comfortably in the arm chair that Juliette usually preoccupied when she was reading. Basard stood quietly before him at attention.

"You cannot hide this from me, Basard. How could you have let this happen?" Bane uttered, clearly displeased with his correct assumptions.

"I was weak," was Basard's simple reply.

"No, no, no. That is not why. You are not a weak man, you are a killer. What has this little girl done to you? Has she cast a spell on you?" he raised his voice, his arms theatrically opening wide as if he were putting on a show.

Basard stood silently, not sure what to say. He couldn't apologize, he wasn't sorry. He couldn't explain it to him.

Bane looked him over, staring at Basard's expressionless face. He shrugged his shoulders. "It is your folly. You alone must deal with it. Break it off immediately. Then have her pack a bag. We go underground tonight. It is no longer appropriate to use this home for shelter. She is not safe here, and that goes against Talia's wishes."

Basard nodded and left to follow his commander's orders to the letter.


	10. Schemes and Plans

Juliette laid in her small, cold bunker bed with a small blanket that barely covered her. She shivered deeply. She had lost count of the days, weeks that she had been down underground in Bane's "liar." It could have even been months. She felt like it had been months. She sighed in frustration, tears beginning to well in her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously, gulping deep breaths of dingy air to calm herself.

The past few weeks or months, she couldn't keep count, had been so lonely. She remembered the long walk down into the sewers, the vast change it was from Talia's home. She remembered that Basard had not looked at her once throughout the long walk, had only spoken to her once to pack a small bag of "functional" clothes. She turned over in the cot-like bunker bed, trying to ignore the sounds of the snoring men around her. She hadn't even been separated from the army of Bane, she was shoved in one of the bed holes like a common animal.

Somehow, though, she began to find her place. It wasn't much, but it was something. Every morning, she would get up alone and go get something to eat from the meager offerings placed near Bane's headquarters. Then she would wander around, the men never making eye contact with her. It perplexed her. No one ever talked to her. Then she would eventually get bored of that, and go to the make-shift gym that had been provided to the men and would tone her body just enough to keep her mind pre-occupied. And off of Basard.

He had not spoken to her since she got there. He had not touched her, nor played with her. When he passed her in the halls, he wouldn't look at her. It was such a stark change. At first, she was just surprised. She was hurt. She couldn't understand fully what had happened, but she knew Bane had something to do with it, so she knew she couldn't fight what had happened.

She roused herself from the bed, her stomach growling at her to get something to eat. She sat up and placed her socked feet on the floor. She pulled her heavy black boots on and rose up and stretched. She was dressed to look like everyone else, except that she wore all black, and her clothes fit her tighter. She refused to loose that part of her vanity. She scuffled over to the food tables and grabbed a banana, angrily glaring at Bane's shadowed lair. She walked around a bit, lost in her thoughts, until she ran into a wall. Or felt like she ran into a wall.

Basard saw her approaching him, Juliette appearing so lost in her thoughts that even though her eyes were open, they weren't seeing anything. He maintained his path, not allowing her body to deter his. He remembered when she first came down here that he had glared at every man they passed, daring them to looking at her and suffer death. He knew his unvoiced threat still clung in the air despite his contact with her in over a month. He saw her deteriorate into a shell, and yearned to touch her, but knew it was forbidden. He could never have her again.

She stumbled slightly and then ran directly into his chest, stopping the both of them, Juliette stumbling back, Basard not moving an inch. She collected herself, stared at her fallen food and then looked up at him. It was a millisecond, then her eyes registered that it was Basard she ran into. The fire rose in her eyes. He saw her stand up straight, walk right up to him, and backhand him harder than she had ever done before, her month of frustration and confusion towards him coming out in that one action. He took the hit, but his eyes blazed fire right back to her. He would have killed anyone who had done that to him. Probably would have never let it happen to begin with. But this was Juliette.

"FUCK YOU!" she screamed, drawing the various men's eyes up from their tasks to stare at the event. Basard said nothing. Juliette was trembling with anger, but collected herself more, spat on the ground in front of him, and walked past him.

She was so angry. She laid in her small bed for what seemed like hours until she had to get up. Maybe a shower would make her feel better. She had gotten the times down to an art to where she could shower in peace without the other men in there with her. She walked into the bathing room and picked a stall, closed the current, and all alone, turned the shower on hot. The steam began to rise around her as she ripped off her clothes and stood under the shower nozzle, the water drenching her and her anger away.

She was only vaguely aware of the door to the bathing room opening. She did hear the heavy footsteps of multiple men though. Hurriedly, she turned the shower off, wrapped herself in a towel, and called out, "whose there? I'm using this shower, leave."

The curtain to her stall was ripped open and Juliette shrieked and crammed herself against the back of the shower, almost slipping. Three men stood in front of the curtain, all leering at her.

"Well well well," one of the men stated. He looked to the two others. "It's Basard's pet! Well, not anymore, not after what we saw today. I would say, actually, that this one," the man pointed at her, "is free for the taking now." The man, clad in fatigues reached his beefy hand toward her arm and ripped her away from the wall and into the room, out of the small shower stall. The men began to circle her slowly.

"I agree," said one of the other men. "She free for the taking, and ripe by the looks of it," he leered.

Juliette began to feel dizzy. This couldn't be happening. A month or so had gone by and no one had even looked at her. Now, she faced three men who wanted to do god knows what to her. Their circling was only making her more dizzy, as she whipped herself around in her towel, trying to assess the strongest of the three men to keep her eyes on.

Suddenly, a hand from behind grabbed her, and instinctively, she kicked out her leg, eliciting a sharp howl from the man as he let her go, only to be grabbed by the next man who held a knife to her throat. "Do that again, pretty thing, and I'll slice your throat straight to your spine."

Juliette froze in his grasp, the knife pressing into her throat, knowing his threat was not idle. She sighed softly, giving in to the man, knowing she couldn't fight these three back in only a towel and tiny fists and feet. Her vision began to blur and the world got more dizzy, her legs starting to give out.

She barely heard the door slam open and heavy footsteps with a purpose coming closer. She did hear the three gun shots, the last one barely missing her own face. She shrieked as the knife left her neck and she heard the slumping of a dead man behind her. She looked around her, the steam shrouding the scene, but she was able to make out that the three men were now dead, a hole in each of their heads, their eyes wide with shock for eternity.

She looked up quickly, staring into Basard's eyes as he stood 10 feet across the room from her, his chest heaving, his hand trembling as he held the gun which had taken the lives of the three men. She grasped her towel, adjusting to cover herself more, and saw Basard gulp deeply. She felt self-conscious. He hadn't seen her this de-robed in a long time. She was also confused, why had he done this. He didn't care for her anymore.

She felt no fire rise within her at the sight of him, no anger. But she recognized the fury on Basard's face. He holstered the gun hastily, and closed the distance between them, the fury in his eyes scaring her, making her back up from his advancing steps, until her back ran into the wall of the small shower stall she had been in before. Basard continued to advance on her, and stood before her, towering above her. His breathing was erratic, the look on his face terrifying to her. She had never seen him this unhinged before.

He never spoke a word to her. He simply stared her down. She felt so uneasy under his glare. He moved closer to her, and as he did, he reached out and ripped her towel off her body and out of her desperate hands. She squealed, terrified of him. He moved directly in front of her nude body, looking only in her face, into her eyes. He stayed that way, staring at her for what felt like an eternity, before his hand shot out and wrapped around her neck. Her hands instantly went up and grabbed his wrist, her eyes pleading and begging.

Then his lips were on her lips, fierce and unforgiving, painful. He forced his tongue into her mouth, the hand on her neck moving into her wet hair and grabbing it, pulling her head to the side as his mouth moved to her neck, where he bit her viciously. She cried out in pain, scrambling to get away from him. He pulled harder at her hair, effectively making her immobile. He stared down at his bite, slightly bleeding on the bend between her neck and shoulder. His free hand grabbed his belt and undid it and his pants, he pulled himself out and pressed closer to her, breathing heavily in her ear. She dared not move. She had never been around Basard like this, he couldn't be reached right now.

Roughly, Basard's free hand grabbed her leg and pulled it up and towards him as he centered himself between her, bending down and feeling her entrance. He forced himself into her in one vicious move, her whole body feeling the intrusion, crying out in pain and pleasure. His teeth bit down on her ear lobe and she moaned involuntarily, the hold in her hair loosening at the sound. His movements, however, remained hard as he pounded into her, pounded her into the wall. He ripped his hand from her hair, and grasped the other side of her waist, pulling her up off the floor and forcing her legs to curl around his body as he continued to assault her.

She wished she didn't want this, but she moaned and grinded back against him, missing the contact, waiting him more, deeper, harder. He knew that's what she wanted by the way she put one of her hands on the small of his back, pressing him feebly into her more. He increased the speed and depth of his thrusts. As he did, he finally spoke to her, in her ear, through gritted teeth.

"You are MINE," he spat at her angrily, his thrusts increasing. She moaned and leaned her head toward his mouth as he continued. "If you ever leave me, I will set fire to this earth to find you, and when I do, I will kill you for thinking you could ever be successful in leaving me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved in and out of her, gently pulling his head back and kissing him fully on the lips. "I'll never leave you," she whispered, his lips on hers.

Bane smirked. He had heard the commotion of the men hassling Juliette. He had seen Basard take knowledge of it, struggling to ignore it. In the end, he could not. Bane had watched something come over Basard's features as he stood up, took hold of his gun, and march to the bathing room. Bane heard the door bang open and three exact gun shots fire. Good man, didn't miss a shot, he thought proudly. Bane walked over to the room in time to hear Basard telling the young girl that he would set fire to the earth to find her if she ever left, and Bane knew all he needed to know.

He would report to Talia that their plan had worked.


	11. New Beginnings

Bane stood before Talia in the Capital Building, her small form possessing more authority than any woman he had ever laid eyes on.

"He disobeyed you," she mussed, a small smile on her face, "as predicted." Bane nodded his head in agreement. "You believe he would die for her?" she questioned him, her eyes gazing into his.

"Yes, I do," Bane grunted, clearly unhappy with the circumstances.

"Bring her to me. Sewers are no place for a lady," she smirked slightly.

Juliette laid in her bunker bed, her legs sore from Basard's attack on her. She had been terrified of him, but at the same time, was completely enraptured by him. Days had passed, and he hadn't spoken to her, his face hard every time she was near. But he was never too far from her. _My shadow_, she thought, although the meaning of that word had moved from playful to something more dangerous. She had never really considered her actions until after their most recent coupling. She was playing a dangerous game, with a dangerous man. He was a mercenary, a killer. He had killed those three men without hesitation, and had she been the slightest bit unwilling, she wasn't sure that he would have stopped when it came to her. It felt like he was claiming her. She didn't like that, she wasn't an item to be claimed. She was a person.

In her thoughts, she did not notice Bane's heavy approaching footsteps. She jumped at his voice when he spoke to her.

"Pack your things, small one, it seems this beautiful abode is not up to your high standards," he smirked at her.

Her eyes begged the question her voice couldn't ask. If anyone scared her more than Basard right now, it was still Bane.

"Talia has requested your relocation," he retorted shortly to her.

She jumped up and scrambled to stuff all her things in her small bag, put her shoes on quickly, stood up and said, "ready."

"A woman who obeys with speed," Bane's eyes crinkled, obviously amused with her. "Let's go."

She followed him through the sewers, aware now that it was just the two of them. She stayed close, she was shamed to admit that the rats still scared her. She would utter small shrieks whenever they came to close to her feet, which only gained a huff from Bane. They reached a small ladder leading up through a manhole. Bane stopped and gestured, "ladies first," he cooed at her. She half-smiled, half-glared at him and his playfulness, and gripped the rusty bars, pulling herself up. She pushed the covering of the manhole up and away and scrambled out of the hole. The covering wasn't moving enough, and she apparently wasn't moving too fast, as she felt Bane's hand on her leg, just below her butt, pushing her up and out of the hole. She squeaked and scrambled to stand up as he pulled himself up and out of the hole.

"I had it myself, I didn't need your help," she retorted, a flush covering her face at the thought of Bane's hand being on her, and the jolt of a spark she felt when it connected with her. He simply raised his eyebrow at her, as if to silence her, and walked toward a bike parked a few feet away.

He sat on the bike, and fastened his helmet on, then handed her one. "Get on, and do not make me ask again," he sneered at her.

She hastily pulled her back pack off her back and put it on the ground. She placed the helmet over her long golden brown hair and pulled the visor down, then picked up her bag and moved towards the bike. Bane gestured to the front of the bike. She obeyed without questions, something which obviously pleased Bane as he helped her adjust herself on the bike, before he kicked it on, roaring to life, and screeching out of the alleyway.

Juliette sat quietly in the room Talia had provided to her in the Capital Building, redecorated as a bedroom with a connecting shower. _Privacy_, she thought happily. She hadn't had that in such a long time. And amenities like make-up, hair styling supplies, new clothes. She swelled with comfort. She sat staring at herself in the vanity mirror Talia had given her, brushing her long golden brown locks into smooth waves. She looked skinnier, the meals in the sewer decreasing her weight, but she still looked like herself. Her eyes were a bright hazel against her pale skin, and her freckles stood out more from the lack of sun. She was dressed in her typical night shirt and black silk robe. Her eyes drifted up in the mirror to glance upon her guest, Talia, as she entered.

A smile, bigger than she had imagined, grew on her face at seeing the small woman, and Juliette jumped out of her seat and ran over to hug the woman. Talia embraced her warmly, stroking her hair and cooing at her gently.

"My little one, it has been so long. You look well, this pleases me," her accented voice made Juliette's smile grow wider. Talia motioned to the bed, and the two sat down together. Talia reached out to Juliette and placed her small hand on her shoulder, massaging it gently. "Basard," she spoke softly, when her fingers grazed over the barely visible bite mark he had left on her skin. "It seems his possessiveness grew," she stated matter of factly.

"Why am I here?" Juliette gently asked. "Please don't think me ungrateful, I love this," she gestured around the room.

"Basard was getting slightly out of hand, my dear. He was meant to protect you, not claim you. You are not to be claimed, that is not what I am training you for. You choose your own destiny. While his loyalty to you is something that cannot be destroyed now, we must distance him from you to prevent further, unanticipated harm.." Talia's eyes darkened as she once again gazed at the bite mark.

"You, dear one, are not a toy for these men. You will be their vision. In time, you will understand what that means. For now, you will remain here, with me. Bane will be the only man you will occasionally see, as he is amused by the People's Court," she gestured below. "We will resume your physical training and I will educate you as best I can before our time comes to a close."

Juliette nodded her head, aware completely of what Talia spoke about. Talia sighed gently in contentment. "You are so smart, I love that about you," she cooed at the girl. She stroked her hair one last time, and stood and began to exit the room.

"This is not your prison, Juliette. You may come and go as you please, but when you go, take this with you, and inform one of us," Talia placed a gun on the girl's vanity desk, then exited the room as quietly as she had entered it.


	12. The Walk

Juliette readied herself for the day, preparing herself for what Gotham would look like now, something unfamiliar to her. She looked at herself in the mirror. She wore a beautiful white dress with a green pea coat over it. Green high heels adorned her feet and her hair was up in a tight bun. Maybe she had outdone herself, but she hadn't gotten dressed this way in so long, she couldn't help herself. The clothes were provided to her anyways.

She slowly walked down the stairs to the People's Court, which sounded in full session. Juliette's eyes glanced around the room from the middle of the stairs she had walked down and rested on a pair of grey-blue eyes looking back at her.

Bane sat in the corner of the "court room," braiding threads of cloth, but had stopped to look upon her. His eyebrows raised at her obvious high-style. He should have been disgusted with her outfit, but his eyes were transfixed on her form. _She was beautiful_, he could not deny such an objective fact. Her delicate form reminded him of Talia in every sense. It shouldn't have surprised him, he knew Talia was attempting to reform the girl to take her place once Gotham was gone. Yet, he could not take his eyes off of her. She was different than Talia, held herself differently. He watched her descend the stairs, her hazel eyes popping out because of the colors she was wearing, glued on him. He held her stare, watching her cautiously, his eyes only flickering around occasionally to ensure no one else saw her. Such an outfit, without proper protection, would get her placed directly in the sentencing chair, as she looked almost royal. The way she held herself, straight and proper, yet her attitude was evident, she was humble.

Her high heels clicked as she continued to walk towards him, a flush beginning to appear on her face as she became aware that Bane was essentially staring at her. Her eyes cast down to look at the floor as she closed the distance. She came uncomfortably close to him, by her standards. Even sitting down, Bane still dwarfed her.

She finally looked up at him, her eyes golden, brown, and green shining up at him. A normal man's breath would have been taken away. He had to admit, _she was a vision_. Talia had done well. He sat in silence, awaiting her words that she no doubt needed to speak to him, with the way she had walked with purpose towards him, and only him.

The guards around him looked at the two curiously, each staring at each other, the men appraising her, some a little too loudly. Bane's eyes shot over to the loud men, silencing them immediately, then back down to hers. Her eyes were asking a question, but her mouth was not moving.

He shifted his weight and body so that she was almost between his legs. He looked down at her, "ask what you came here to ask."

His voice cut through her. It was gentle, but authoritative. _You are not to be claimed, you are more than that. You are in control_, Talia's words echoed in her brain. _You are not a prisoner, come and go as you please, but inform us_, her words fluttered in her head.

Juliette stood up straighter in front of Bane, causing his eyebrow to cock up. She reached slowly towards her green pea coat and pushed it aside, revealing the gun in a holster on her hip. _Curious little woman_, Bane thought to himself.

"I am not asking, I am telling you. I am going to go out for a walk," she stated softly, her voice holding new found authority.

Bane almost looked surprised. He leaned back in his seat and took her image in for a moment. This was not the same girl he had seen in the library months ago being petted by Talia. This was a woman in control. His insides felt funny looking at her. This was why Talia took her from the sewers. Basard's presence around her made her a possession, but in fact, she was not meant to be a possession. She was meant to be a leader. This was her first step. Bane decided to play along.

"Well then," he replied jovially, "let's go enjoy the splendors that Gotham has to offer!" His voice rang out a bit and surprised Juliette. She hadn't expected him to want to accompany her, but she decided to bite her tongue and allow him to come along.

He stood up and began to walk in front of her, but she mustered her courage and walked alongside of him. Without thinking, she slunk her arm in between his, so that they linked together as they walked. Bane looked down at her, amused by her courage. She was obviously not afraid of him, or was at least pretending not to be.

For hours, the two, linked at the arms, walked side by side through the streets of Gotham. Juliette took in every thing she could. She saw the tanks drive by, knowing the nuclear bomb was in one of them. She saw children running, and obviously released prisoners staring at her lewdly. Bane was struck at her foresight. The fact that she had connected herself to him so intimately made the lewd looks only looks. No one dared step too close to her, not with her physical attachment to the masked man.

The two walked in silence. Juliette would occasionally look up at him when he wasn't aware, and Bane would look down at her just as she turned her head. They never spoke a word. Finally, they found themselves in Gotham's park, the garden slick with melting snow. She huffed slightly, untangling herself from Bane without a word, and walked slightly ahead of him. No one was around, and she felt slightly safer. She turned around and began walking backwards in front of Bane as he continued to walk, a smirk of playfulness splayed across her face.

"If I ran, how far would I get before you caught me?" she laughed as she spoke.

"Not far, I imagine. Those contraptions on your feet would hinder you more than your sheer frame would," he stated, slightly surprised, and highly amused at her playfulness. He had not spent much time with her, but was finding himself quite enamored with her presence. She was a breath of fresh air, her innocence and playfulness was almost infectious. No wonder Basard was so drawn to her. No wonder Talia had pulled her quickly from him once it got to dangerous for her. She was so open, she didn't realize she had pulled the mercenary to a level where she consumed him. He had seen Basard once she was taken from underground. He paced, was irritable, and although he could never question why, his eyes held slight contempt towards Bane.

She stopped walking and spun around, her arms open, her face straight up taking in the sun, smiling. She stopped, her breaths short and quick, her smile still playful, her eyes burning with some emotion.

She walked casually over to him until she stood directly in front of him, mere inches separating them. She strained her head to look up to him, her hazel eyes inquisitive.

"How is Basard?" she asked gently. "To be expected," Bane replied easily. "Extremely frustrated at your absence."

She cast her eyes down as she spoke again, "I miss him."

Bane had not expected her to say that. "You will see him soon. But you understand why the distance must be created."

Juliette shook her head in agreement, remembering the way Basard had viciously took her in the shower stall.

Bane stared at her, the sun gleaming down into her hair, pulling the natural highlights out of it. Something stirred inside him at the sight of her, but he didn't recognize the feeling. What he felt for Talia was pure love, but nothing sexual ever occurred. It simply wasn't like that with her. This girl was pulling something out of him, he hadn't felt in a long time. It unnerved him.

Juliette sensed Bane's growing discomfort, and decided that it was time to return to go home. "Shall we?" she spoke sweetly to him, gazing up at him with her golden eyes. Bane nodded, and she hooked her arm into his and they began the walk home in silence.

The afternoon had confused Bane. He threaded the strands with more force than normal, almost breaking the cloth. When they had returned, she had looked up at him with some unreadable emotion and then walked away from him up the stairs to her room, leaving him to watch her retreat, her swaying hips.

_Affection_, he thought. That was what he felt. He may be a giant, but he was not stupid. He felt affection towards the girl.

His affection towards her only grew each day as she walked down the steps toward him in a new outfit everyday, no longer asking to go outside, but simply waiting for him to stand to link her arm into his.

He began to await her arrival every day, anticipating their quiet time together.

Talia noticed this trend, and looked on with approving eyes. Her beloved was growing attached to her soon-to-be replacement. She had not told Bane that he too would survive the reckoning of Gotham, but she would eventually. Her plans were coming together. Juliette was perfect for the position. She was beginning to command the attention of the two most powerful men in the league, the affection of the single most powerful man in the league. She had seen the amusement in Bane's eyes as he glanced at Juliette in her get-ups and had seen the unvoiced commands Juliette gave him when she wanted to go walking outside. She saw Bane's obedience and affection towards the girl grow every day. _She must push this and see them more connected_, she thought to herself. Bane must become more attached to this girl than he was to even herself. Bane would never protect anything less.


	13. Curiousity

_"I've found you, little one.. you did not run far," Basard sneered at her. "They made me go," Juliette cried out, "they made me!" Her pleas were silenced by Basard's violent blue eyes as he advanced on her._

_"I told you what would happen if you ever left me," he spat menancingly. "No, no, please!" she cried, as he gripped her hair and raised a knife to her throat._

"NO!" she screamed, waking herself up. She breathed deeply. It was just a dream. It still bothered her. Would Basard act like that towards her when she saw him again? She shoke silently in bed. She heard the door creak open and light footsteps enter. Talia came out of the shadows and sat delicately next to Juliette's body.

"Dear one, what has you troubled?" she spoke softly, stroking the damp hair away from Juliette's face.

"I dreamt that Basard was going to kill me," she sobbed softly. Juliette left her head down, her fear coming back.

"Sshhh, that will never happen. First, Basard loves you. He won't kill what he loves. Second, your new admirer would never let that happen to you," she concluded with finality.

The moonlight shone through the window, highlighting Juliette's features as she lifted her head in curiousity, looking inquisitively to Talia.

"New admirer?" she questioned, totally clueless.

"My dear!" Talia chuckled softly, not wanting to break the quiet tone of their conversation. "You have my beloved eating out of the palm of your hand. No, no, do not think me jealous. You can give him something that I cannot. I have never been with Bane, our love is not like that. But you, dear one, you can give that to him."

"You want me to be with Bane?" she said incredulously.

"Only if you want. You seem to be drawn to him," Talia continued. "Are you not?"

Juliette reflected on their walks together, the way she seemed to enjoy Bane's attention and the way his eyes seemed to always find her in a crowd. "I never thought it was a possibility," she said softly.

"Complete this for me. You need the connection with that man, just as you needed it with Basard. It will make you more powerful than you already are. Only if you want to though. And remember, he will never initiate it, out of respect. It must be you that pushes it."

Juliette nodded her head, perplexed by all of this information. Did she want Bane like that? She had a lot of thinking to do.

The next morning, Juliette did not meet with Bane for their walk. She sat quietly in front of her vanity, in her typical night shirt with her black silk robe, her hair billowing around her. She hadn't applied her make-up, and was thinking over and over again on what Talia had spoken to her about. How odd and abrupt it was. Was she using her body to gain control? It seemed archaic. But if she wanted it at the same time, was it so wrong? Did she even want Bane like that?

As if on cue, he entered her room, his heavy footsteps giving him away immediately.

"Ah, she is alive," he said mockingly to her, his hands shoved into the tops of his vest, standing tall before her across the room.

Juliette looked up at him through the vanity mirror, knowing this moment would be an important one. She stood up slowly, never breaking eye contact with him in the mirror until she turned around to look upon him.

His eyes diverted from hers for a moment when he took in her state of dress, but locked back onto her as she approached him slowly, like a predator. His stance straightened more, almost out of instinct at being approached like this, readying for battle.

She continued her calculated pace towards him, breathing slowly, but realizing her breathing was picking up as she moved closer to him. She stopped in front of him, her robe open and her tan night shirt clinging to her body, ending at the middle of her thighs. She reached out her hand hesitantly and placed it on his chest. His entire body froze, surprised at her action.

"What are you doing?" he asked gruffly. "Sshh," she replied, "let me do this, stay still."

Her hand flattened against his vest, and moved slowly across his chest, her other hand joining in. She moved her hands towards his arms, her fingertips caressing up and down his biceps and forearms. Bane stood stock still, shocked at her actions. She moved her hands to his exposed neck, and up to his face, running her fingers over her mask. Then, daringly, she brought her hands down to his torso, the area not covered by his vest, and ran her hands across the top of his belt and pants.

At that action, Bane grunted lightly, and Juliette fluttered deep inside her lower stomach. She kept her hands there, and looked up at him. He was staring down at her, his eyes holding an element of confusion. Take control, Juliette, take what you want.

She stared up at him, and gripped the edge of the front of his fatigues. "I want you," she whispered to him. She gently pulled him towards her, and he gave way, coming closer to her.

Confusion washed over Bane. She wanted him? "You don't know what you want," he spoke lowly, an edge in his voice. Her gaze hardened slightly, and she tugged at him again, one of her hands lowering to brush lightly over the front of his pants. "I know exactly what I want. The real question, Bane, is do you want me?" she asked softly.

Desire, so fierce he couldn't control it, washed over him as her hand traced over his pants. Yes, he wanted her. He wanted her the moment she walked down the stairs in her white dress and green coat. The moment she linked arms with his. He continued to stand still, fighting to control himself against her soft onslaught.

He will not initiate it out of respect, Talia's voice echoed in her mind. Juliette's hand firmly grasped Bane's growing erection, and Bane growled loudly, sweeping her up, and pulling her legs around his waist as he walked her to the bed. She knew she had broken his self control. She shivered slightly, unsure of what this would mean.

He laid her lightly on the bed, she bounced lightly at the contact. Bane stared down at her from the edge of the bed and took her in. Her legs were slightly parted and raised, the tan night shirt riding up to reveal her lacy panties, her black robe falling behind her. Her eyes were darker than normal, her lips slightly parted, her hair spread out around her face and body. She was breathing heavily, her hands grasping the bedding around her. Yes, he wanted her.

He gently reached towards her hips and pulled her panties off and tossed them to the side. Her breathing increased, the sunlight catching the hues in her hair. Bane silently undid he belt, and unbuckled his pants, then pulled off his vest. Juliette sat up then, and reached towards him. She grabbed the edge of his shirt and impatiently tugged at it like a child. He pulled it off at her request, standing bare chested in front of her. She softly reached her small hands into his pants and pulled him out. He was huge, she shivered. Bane growled at the contact, but allowed her to continue to explore him. She rubbed her hands up and down him, wondering how she would adjust to this, if she even could. Curiously, she moved closer and flicked her tongue out over him. He growled fiercely, and pushed her back down in the bed, climbing up and in between her legs, positioning himself at her entrance.

He grabbed a handful of her hair, his other hand roughly grabbing her breast and massaging it. Electricity shot through Juliette at all the sensations, the tension of him pulling her hair, massaging her, and him at her entrance, begging to be let in. Her hips slightly bucked up towards his, moving her folds against him, eliciting another more feral growl from Bane.

His hand, still in her hair, gripped her harder, and his other hand moved down to her center, his fingers, surprisingly, softly touching her, feeling her wetness. He rumbled deeply, sending a shock down her spine as she grew more wet in anticipation. She had never wanted anything more in her entire life. "Please," she moaned, as his fingers continued to stroke her. He grunted in response, grabbing himself and positioning himself again at her entrance. His hand moved to her hip and lifted her as he pushed into her fully in one stroke. Juliette screamed out in pleasure and Bane lowered his head, grasping onto his self-control in vain. She was so tight, so wet. He hadn't felt this in so long, and with this woman, he was not going to be able to... Juliette gently bucked her hips at him, pulling him in more...

Bane's control broke. He pulled out of her and rammed himself back in forcefully, pulling another scream of pleasure from Juliette. He felt her tensing around him. He repeated the motions, ramming harder and harder into her until she came, screaming his name. Her body was shuddering as she came down from her high. He stopped his motions, allowing her time to recover before he started again, this time, just for him. He violently forced himself in her, and she welcomed him, her legs wrapping around his waist and lifting her hips. "Please, please, please," she wailed. It pushed him over the edge as he emptied himself into her with a feral growl, his hands on her waist sure to leave bruises.

He pressed his forehead onto hers, his mouthpiece almost touching her lips. She moved an inch closer and gently kissed the mouthpiece. Bane's eyes closed in pleasure at the gesture.

He pulled himself out of her gently, and readjusted himself, pulling his clothes back on. She continued to lay on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows, staring at him.

Fully clothed, he just stood and stared at her. She looked at him inquisitively.

"Well, get dressed. We have a walk to attend to," he said matter-of-factly.

She grinned at him, a sight he thought was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Juliette jumped off the bed and prepared for the day.


	14. Dreams

_She felt Bane's hand on her, caressing her, gripping her._

She let out a strangled cry and sat straight up in bed, wildly looking around the room. _What the hell_, she thought. _It was just a dream_. She had dreamt she had been with Bane and.. liked it.. Her head was so muddled and confused. She looked down and saw her covers were strewn about the bed. She got up and looked in the mirror. Her hair looked like a birds' nest and her eyes had huge black circles underneath them.

She gripped her head with both hands. _What does this mean_? First, Talia tells her to do it. Then, she dreams it. And likes it. But_ NO_, her thoughts screamed. **_NO NO NO_**. Of course, she had begun to adore Bane. He was almost her gentle giant. But that was all he would ever be to her.

Her thoughts moved to Basard. She suddenly felt so guilty. She had to see him, immediately. She knew Talia and Bane would never allow it, so she had to do this quietly, under their radar, if possible. Hopefully, Bane would not come looking for her when she didn't come for their daily walk like he did in her dream.

_Where would Basard be? In the sewers?_ No, it was getting to close to the final hour. He would be above ground, patrolling, controlling. She had to find him.

She quickly got dressed, brushed her hair down and applied light make up. She dressed herself in tight athletic black leggings and a dark hoodie to conceal herself. She pulled her small black running shoes on. She looked around. _The window_? No, she would fall to her death immediately. She had to leave through the front door. The door that was guarded almost by Bane. _Ok_, she thought, soothing herself, _you can do this_. She breathed in and out, allowing the air to calm her nerves.

She opened the door cautiously, peering both ways. The hallway was clear. She took the back stairs today, hoping to avoid Bane's eyes. She moved slowly about the Peoples' Court, keeping her head down and trying not to jostle too many people. The sounds of the people screaming and the gavel pounding started to make her head pound. _Basard_, she thought. She had to find him. Her neck began to tingle at the thought of him.

She looked up briefly and spotted Bane from across the room, braiding his cloth threads. A guard approached him, engaging him in conversation. _**NOW GO GO GO**_, she screamed at herself mentally. She began to sprint through the crowd, making it to the front door of the building, now behind Bane. Quietly, she pushed the door open just enough to let herself through.

She sprinted down the stairs and into the nearest alley ay. She gulped deep breaths of cold air, her exhalations coming out in steam clouds as she calmed her heart rate down. Once she felt herself collected enough, she began to think. _Where would he be_... she had no clue. She had absolutely no clue.

She let this thought sink deep into her, and simply began to walk. The streets looked different to her now without Bane beside her. She wasn't dressed up today, so no one gave her a second look, but the streets seemed more lonesome today. There was an air of desolation about it all. It made her sad.

She walked for hours along the streets, not seeing Basard, only random foot soliders and scared civilians. She returned, feeling slightly broken, to the Capital Building. She walked up the dark steps, and pushed the door open. It was quiet and dark inside. She made her way up to her room and was greeted with an angry Talia.

"Where were you?!" she shouted at Juliette's under-dressed dirty figure. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? I told you to inform us when you were leaving! If we don't know where you are, we can't protect you!" Talia was furious. She was waving her hands around, fire in her eyes.

"Just what the hell were you doing?!" she shouted in her accented voice to Juliette.

Juliette simply whispered back, "looking for Basard."

Talia made a small noise in her throat, surprised by her response. "You want to see the man who scarred you?"

"Yes," Juliette replied, more defiant this time. "It isn't what you think. He would never hurt me. And I miss him, I need to see him," she pleaded with Talia.

Talia clicked her tongue in disapproval, but something alit in her eyes. "I know the feeling, little one. It's the ones who burn us that we burn to see. I will have him summoned here. You are not to leave this room. Consider this... being grounded," Talia said, almost sounding surprised at herself for her almost-motherly tone.

And with that, she walked out of Juliette's room.

_This complicates things_, Talia thought to herself, after she had commanded one of Bane's henchmen to bring Basard to her. She had wanted Juliette to turn to Bane, but her pull was too strong to Basard. _Recalculate_, she commanded herself. _This can still work._ She appraised the situation. She thought over the methods and plans that would now have to be in place for Juliette to succeed her with Basard, not Bane.

She was lost in her thoughts for hours until a knock at her door aroused her. "Come in," she said lightly. Basard walked in, at full attention, and stood in front of her.

"You requested to see me, maa'm," he spoke swiftly.

"Yes, Basard, yes I did. It seems we have a problem here... Juliette," she let the name roll off her tongue, waiting to see the reaction on Basard's face. _And there it was._ Basard tried to maintain control over his emotions, tried to remain expressionless, but curiousity and desire lit into his eyes. He lifted his head slightly higher.

"Maa'm," was his only reply.

"Oh don't act naïve with me, I know very well what has gone on. It seems she cannot get over you despite my best efforts. She crawled the dirty streets ALONE looking for you today," she retorted, an edge of anger in her voice. "I cannot break her of you," she snapped.

Basard remained motionless, awaiting Talia's words and commands.

Talia dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Go to her," she said simply.

Basard nodded curtly, and dismissed himself of Talia's presence.

Basard walked quietly into her darkened room, not announcing himself with a knock, afraid she was asleep due to the late hour of the night. He was right. Her room was pitch black, save for the light given by the moon through the un-shaded window. The beams cast down on the bed, illuminating Juliette to him. He approached carefully, softly, not wanting to wake her.

He took her in for the first time in weeks. She radiated beauty. Her hands were thrown about her head, the covers pulled around her waist. Her golden hair, dark in the night, framed her small, pale face. She was breathing deeply, sound asleep. He had no idea her deep sleep was due to her excessive pacing at waiting for his arrival, until she had given into sleep.

He sat himself softly on the bed next to her. The slight shift in the mattress made her open her drowsy eyes, not yet fully awake, and rested them on his darkened form. "Basard," she breathed.

"Yes, my beauty," he whispered to her, lightly stroking her hair and face with the back of his hand. He knew she wasn't fully awake, not fully aware of what was happening.

"I didn't run," she said softly, her eyes momentarily closing, then opening halfway again, her tongue flicked out to lick her pink lips. Basard shuddered a little, the sight making him shift uneasily. _ Yes, he had missed her, everything about her_. Not a day went by where he didn't think about her. Worried that she was unprotected, worried that she was alone.

"I know, little one, I know," he replied softly, not wanting her to wake up. She moaned in her sleep, curling into his hand which stroked her face, adjusting her body to turn on its side facing him.

"Stay," was all she said.


	15. Steam

Juliette stretched out her body in the bed, and heard the shower running. _Basard_, she thought sweetly. She gently got out of bed, stripped her clothes off and tip-toed into the bathroom. Steam was everywhere, and she could barely see him through the glass shower door. He had his head down under the stream of water and his hands placed firmly on the wall behind the shower head.

Juliette never really thought that Basard was a troubled man, but looking at him this way, she knew he had his own demons. She gently slide the door open and silently stepped in. All of the muscles in Basard's back tensed up, letting her know that he was aware of her presence. She walked silently over to him and wrapped her tiny arms around his waist. They stayed that way for a few minutes until Basard relaxed under her touch.

He turned around in her embrace and looked down at her. She stared at his chest. "Basard, I..." he cut her off gently with a "sssh," and gently cupped her face, putting his warm lips on hers. She moaned at the contact, not realizing how much her body had missed it. He increased the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth without permission, the kiss becoming more passionate. Juliette's senses were on fire. Basard's hands were exploring her body, asking permission to touch her where she most wanted it. She gently opened herself up more, and softly cried out when his fingers made contact with her.

He continued to finger her, gently caressing her with his tongue and hands. His mouth moved over to the mark he had left on her neck and kissed it gently. Juliette reached out to him and rubbed his chest, down his stomach, and grabbed him unabashedly. He growled at her, almost a warning to her. She gripped him harder, eliciting a louder rumble in his chest. She wanted this, she wanted his passion, his desire

He grabbed her roughly and pushed her against the wall, flashbacks beginning to hit Juliette of their prior time in the shower. She shuddered a bit. Basard lessened his hold on her arms, noticing her flitch. "Don't be scared of me," he whispered to her, imploring her with his eyes. "I won't hurt you, and I'll kill anyone who does."

Juliette nodded softly, understanding the depth of Basard's loyalty and maybe even love, to her. She relaxed against the wall, pushing her hips into his gently. He pushed back.

"Only if you want to, little one," he mumbled into her wet hair. "Please," was all she could croak out.

With her permission, Basard lifted her leg up and positioned himself at her entrance, easing his way into her. She moaned out in exctasy at the feeling of her welcoming him back in slowly. He began to pump in and out of her, his passion growing, his control slipping.

"Let go," she whispered to him, before she saw stars.


End file.
